riordan rick - demigods and monsters

demigodsand

monsters

Your Favorite Authors on Rick Riordan’s Percy Jackson

and the Olympians Series

Edited by Rick Riordanwith Leah Wilson

“Monster Recognition for Beginners” Copyright © 2008 by Rosemary Clement-Moore

“Why Do So Many Monsters Go Into Retail?” Copyright © 2008 by CameronDokey

“Stealing Fire From the Gods” Copyright © 2008 by Paul Collins“Would You Want to Be One of Artemis’s Hunters?” Copyright © 2008 by

Carolyn MacCullough“Dionysus: Who Let Him Run a Summer Camp?” Copyright © 2008 by Ellen

Steiber“The Gods Among Us” Copyright © 2008 by Elizabeth Marraffino“Eeny Meeny Miney Mo(m)” Copyright © 2008 by Jenny Han“Percy, I Am Your Father” Copyright © 2008 by Sarah Beth Durst“Not Even the Gods Are Perfect” Copyright © 2008 by Elizabeth Gatland“Frozen Eyeballs” Copyright © 2008 by Kathi Appelt“The Language of the Heart” Copyright © 2008 by Sophie Masson“A Glossary of Ancient Greek Myth” Copyright © 2008 by Nigel RodgersAdditional Materials Copyright © 2008 by Rick Riordan

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in anymanner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quo-tations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

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THIS PUBLICATION HAS NOT BEEN PREPARED, APPROVED, ORLICENSED BY ANY ENTITY THAT CREATED OR PRODUCED THEWELL-KNOWN BOOK SERIES PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS.

CONTENTS

Introduction

Rick Riordan / vii

Monster Recognition for Beginners

Rosemary Clement-Moore / 1

Why Do So Many Monsters Go Into Retail?

Cameron Dokey / 13

Stealing Fire From the Gods

Paul Collins / 23

Would You Want to Be One of Artemis’s Hunters?

Carolyn MacCullough / 33

Dionysus: Who Let Him Run a Summer Camp?

Ellen Steiber / 43

The Gods Among Us

Elizabeth M. Rees / 63

Eeny Meeny Miney Mo(m)

Jenny Han / 81

V

Percy, I Am Your Father

Sarah Beth Durst / 93

Not Even the Gods Are Perfect

Elizabeth E. Wein / 107

Frozen Eyeballs

Kathi Appelt / 119

The Language of the Heart

Sophie Masson / 133

A Glossary of Ancient Greek Myth

Nigel Rodgers / 143

DEMIGODS AND MONSTERSVI

INTRODUCTION

Rick Riordan

PERSONS attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be

prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be ban-

ished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot—BY

ORDER OF THE AUTHOR.

—MARK TWAIN, front matter to Huckleberry Finn

X-Raying the Author’s Head

Many years ago, before Percy Jackson appeared in my life, I was

known primarily as a writer of grown-up mystery novels. One night

I was doing an event with two other authors, and one of them was

explaining why he liked my book The Devil Went Down to Austin.

“The structure is amazing,” he told the audience. “It’s a book

about scuba diving, and as the characters go deeper into the dark

murky water, the plot also gets darker and murkier. The symbolism

is really clever.”

The audience looked suitably impressed. I looked confused.

I use symbolism? Who would’ve guessed?

After the event, when I confessed to the other author that I hadn’t

done the murky structure thing intentionally, that perhaps it was just

the result of my faulty outlining, his jaw dropped. He’d studied my

writing. He’d made brilliant insights. And I’d just been telling a story?

Impossible!

That doesn’t mean his insights weren’t valuable, or that the sym-

bolism wasn’t there. But this does raise an important point about the

difference between writing a story and analyzing it.

VII

Any book, for children or adults, can be read on many levels. We

can simply enjoy it. Or we can look for hidden meanings and

nuances. We can even write essays about the book, exploring it from

different angles.

The writer’s job is to write the book. The careful reader’s job is to

find meaning in the book. Both jobs are important. The meanings you

find can enlighten, fascinate, and surprise. They can even surprise the

author. The author, at least this author, uses symbols and themes sub-

consciously. I don’t think about it, any more than a native speaker of

English consciously thinks about subject-verb agreement as he speaks.

The front matter to Huckleberry Finn has always been one of my

favorite Mark Twain quotes. Twain was adamant that readers simply

read his book, not scrutinize it for morals or messages, much less a

plot structure. Of course, this has not stopped generations of English

majors from writing their graduate theses on the novel.

When I was first approached about editing this anthology, I was-

n’t sure what to think. Why would so many talented writers want to

write about my children’s books? And yet, when I read their essays, I

was amazed. Each had a different angle on Percy Jackson—all of

them fascinating and thought-provoking. Many of them made me

think, “Is that what I was doing in the series?” It was like having

someone take an x-ray of my head. Suddenly, I saw all this stuff

going on inside that I was never aware of.

Maybe that’s why Mark Twain tried to warn off critics who

wanted to interpret his work. It’s not that the interpretations are

wrong. It’s that they tend to be a little too close to home!

The Accidental Demigod

I never intended to write the Percy Jackson series.

When my oldest son was in second grade, he began having

problems in school. He couldn’t focus. He didn’t want to sit down

and read. Writing was a painful challenge.

DEMIGODS AND MONSTERSVIII

Being a novelist and a middle school teacher, I had a hard time

accepting that my son hated school. Then came the fateful parent

conference when the teachers suggested my son get a full psycho-

educational evaluation. A few weeks later we got the results: ADHD

and dyslexia.

These were not new concepts to me. I had taught many students

with learning differences. I had made modifications. I’d filled out

evaluation forms.

But when the child in question is your own son, it’s different.

How could I help him make sense of what was going on with

him? How could I frame the problem in a positive way?

In the end, I fell back on what I knew best—storytelling.

My son’s saving grace in second grade was Greek mythology.

This was the only part of the curriculum he enjoyed. Every night, he

would ask me to tell him bedtime stories from the myths, and when

I ran out of them, he asked me to make up a new one.

And so it sprang from my mind unbidden—like Athena from

Zeus’ forehead—the myth of how ADHD and dyslexia came to be.

I created Percy Jackson, a Greek demigod in the tradition of Her-

cules and Theseus and Perseus, except Percy is a modern kid. He

has ADHD and dyslexia, and he learns that taken together, those

two conditions indicate without a doubt that he has Olympian

blood.

In The Lightning Thief, ADHD means you have finely tuned

senses. You see too much, not too little. These reflexes don’t serve

you well in a boring classroom, but they would keep you alive on

the battlefield. Dyslexia indicates that your brain is hard-wired for

Ancient Greek, so of course reading English is a struggle.

My son had no trouble buying this theory at all.

In the story, Percy Jackson discovers that being different can be a

source of strength—and a mark of greatness. Being academically

hopeless does not mean you are a hopeless person. Percy was my

way of honoring all the children I’ve taught who have ADHD and

INTRODUCTION IX

dyslexia, but more importantly he was a myth for my son to make

sense of who he is.

When I was done telling the story, my son told me to write it

down. I was dubious. I didn’t think anyone would like it, and I did-

n’t exactly have a lot of spare time. I was already teaching full-time

and writing a mystery novel a year. But I made the time and wrote

The Lightning Thief.

My son loved the final version. Apprehensively, I gave the manu-

script to some of my students. They loved it too. I sent it off to the

publishers under a pseudonym so I wouldn’t be embarrassed by the

flood of rejection notes. Within weeks, the book went to auction and

was snapped up by the Disney Book Group.

At the end of that school year I became a full-time children’s

writer. The Percy Jackson series was soon published around the

world.

If you’d told me five years ago that someone would want to cre-

ate an anthology of essays based on a bedtime story I made up for

my son, I would’ve called you crazy.

The Power of Myth

So why does the series resonate with young readers? Why do people

still want to read Greek myths? These are stories from a long time

ago about a very different society. What possible relevance could

they have in the twenty-first century?

Certainly, you can get through life knowing no mythology, but it

would be a pretty poor existence. Mythology is the symbolism of

civilization. It contains our most deeply embedded archetypes. Once

you know mythology, you see it everywhere—from the names of our

days of the week to our art and architecture. You would be hard-

pressed to find any work of English literature that does not draw to

some extent on classical mythology, whether it’s the hero’s quest or

allusions to the Olympians.

DEMIGODS AND MONSTERSX

So knowing mythology makes one a more informed member of

society, but its importance goes beyond that. Mythology is a way of

understanding the human condition. Myths have always been man’s

attempt to explain phenomena—and not just why the sun travels

across the sky. Myths also explain love, fear, hate, revenge, and the

whole range of human feelings.

When I speak to school groups, I often ask children what Greek god

they would like for a parent. My favorite answer was from a schoolgirl in

Texas who said, “Batman!” Actually, the girl’s suggestion of Batman as a

Greek god is not too far off, because it’s the same idea at work: creating a

superhuman version of humanity so that we can explore our problems,

strengths, and weaknesses writ large. If the novel puts life under the

microscope, mythology blows it up to billboard size.

Myths aren’t something that happened in the past, either. We

didn’t leave them behind with the Bronze Age. We are still creating

myths all the time. My books, among other things, explore the myth

of America as the beacon of civilization, the myth of New York, and

the myth of the American teenager.

When we understand classical mythology, we understand some-

thing of our own nature, and how we attempt to explain things we

don’t comprehend. And as long as we’re human, there will be things

we don’t comprehend.

On a more basic level, Greek mythology is simply fun! The sto-

ries have adventure, magic, romance, monsters, brave heroes, horri-

ble villains, fantastic quests. What’s not to love?

Mythology especially appeals to middle grade readers because

they can relate to the idea of demigods. Like Hercules, Jason, and

Theseus, Percy Jackson is half-man, half-god. He is constantly strug-

gling to understand his identity, because he straddles two worlds,

but belongs in neither. Middle schoolers understand being in

between. They are between adulthood and childhood. They feel

stuck in the middle all the time, trapped in an awkward state. Every-

thing is changing for them—physically, socially, emotionally. The

INTRODUCTION XI

demigod is a perfect metaphor for their situation, which is why the

hero’s quest resonates for them.

When I do school events, I usually play a trivia game on Greek

mythology with the kids. It doesn’t matter what school I visit, or how

little mythology the students have done in the classroom. The students

always know the answers, and the adults are always amazed. I can

almost guarantee some teacher will come up afterward, wide-eyed,

and say, “I didn’t know our students knew so much mythology!”

It’s not a surprise to me. Young readers own mythology. They see

themselves as the hero. They gain hope in their own struggles by fol-

lowing the quests. And yes, sometimes they even see their teachers

as the monsters!

About This Anthology

Within these pages, you will find out what really makes Dionysus

tick. You’ll learn how to assign a letter grade to your parents. You’ll

explore the coolest monsters and most horrible villains of the Percy

Jackson series. You’ll decide whether becoming a Hunter of Artemis

is a good deal or a disastrous mistake. You’ll even learn how to

unfreeze your eyeballs and recognize your own prophecy. Which

essay comes closest to the truth? It’s not for me to say.

About a year ago at a signing for The Lightning Thief, a boy raised his

hand in the audience and asked, “What is the theme of your book?”

I stared at him blankly. “I don’t know.”

“Darn it!” he said. “I need that for my report!”

The lesson here: If you want to know the theme of a book, the

last person to ask is the author. This anthology, however, offers fresh

perspectives and amazing insights. If you’re looking for something to

lift the Mist from your eyes and make you say, “Aha! There are mon-

sters!”, then you’ve come to the right place.

DEMIGODS AND MONSTERSXII

Monster Recognition

for BeginnersLessons from Percy Jackson on Monsters and

Heroes

Rosemary Clement-Moore

What would you do if you woke up one morning and found a

satyr on your front porch, and he explained that he was going

to take you to a special camp for people like you: half-god, half-

human?

1

Every young hero will encounter monsters.That’s a given. But will you see them beforethey see you? Rosemary Clement-Mooreoffers this handy survival guide fordemigods, chock-full of tips to help you a)recognize the warning signs that a monsteris near, b) avoid it if possible, and c) knowwhat to do when you have to fight. Studyup, demigods. You never know when yourmath teacher will start to grow claws.

You might be tempted to laugh, thinking it’s a practical joke.

Or maybe you’d think it was great. But if you’ve read the Percy

Jackson books, you would also be seriously worried. Being a

demigod may sound glamorous, but in Percy’s world, the child of a

god can look forward to a life full of hardships and danger. Heroes,

whether they are on a quest or just trying to live through the

school year, must always stay on their toes and on the lookout for

monsters.

Imagine you’re living in Percy’s world: Does that donut store on

the corner make a shiver run down your spine? Does the popularity

of a certain coffee chain have anything to do with the mermaid on its

logo? And what about the homeless man under the bridge near your

apartment: Does no one think it strange that he wears a muffler and

trench coat all year round?

Or maybe you live in the country, and suddenly a lot of cattle

are mysteriously disappearing. Is it a coyote problem, or a wander-

ing monster snacking on your uncle Walt’s best milk cows? What

really started those California wildfires: a careless camper or a fire-

breathing chimera?

To Percy and his classmates, asking these kinds of questions

could mean the difference between life and death. Not to mention

the success of a quest. Ignoring their instincts could lead to death . . .

or worse, humiliating defeat.

If you suddenly discover you are a demigod like the ones in

Percy Jackson’s world, don’t be lured into spending all your time on

rock climbing and archery practice. These things are important, but

if you really want to survive a monster attack, you need to learn how

to recognize them. That way you can make a plan for fighting, or

fleeing, whichever seems more prudent. Percy Jackson has had to

learn these lessons the hard way. While some of his classmates might

consider the constant threats to life and limb opportunities for per-

sonal growth, the wise hero should take a page from the children of

Athena and fight smarter, not harder.

DEMIGODS AND MONSTERS2

Fortunately, we have Percy’s triumphs—and mistakes—to learn

from. So just in case you do open your door to a satyr one morning,

here’s some of what I’ve learned from reading the Percy Jackson

books: how to survive in a world full of monsters who want to kill

you in three easy lessons.

Lesson One: Monsters and You

The first thing to realize in dealing with mythical creatures is the

basic nature of the relationship between hero and monster: There is

a very good chance that even a random encounter between them will

result in death for one or both. Simply stated, heroes kill monsters,

and monsters resent that fact.

Let us take some examples from the ancient world: Bellerophon,

Theseus, Hercules, and Perseus.1 All of them heroes, all of them slay-

ers of monsters—chimera, Minotaur, Hydra, and Gorgon. And the

monsters never forget it. Youth is no protection, either; monsters

have no ethics, so they don’t have an ethical problem with getting rid

of their natural enemies while they are still young and vulnerable.

Now, a demigod has certain advantages over monsters. Depend-

ing on the type of creature he’s facing, the demigod may be faster or

more mobile. His ability to use a weapon may counter the natural

advantage of, say, a bulletproof hide, like the Nemean Lion’s, or seven

heads that always grow back, like the Hydra’s. The human half makes

the hero smarter than the average monster, provided the hero actually

uses his brain. The god half doubtlessly adds advantages as well,

though of course this would largely depend on the god in question.

The monsters’ biggest advantage—besides the obvious things

like claws, teeth, and poison, and superior size and strength—is that

MONSTER RECOGNITION FOR BEGINNERS 3

1 The original one, not Percy Jackson of The Lightning Thief, etc. The ancientPerseus was the son of Zeus, not Poseidon, so it’s curious that his motherpicked that name.

they never really die. The centaur Chiron tells us monsters are

“archetypes.” An archetype is the original, basic idea of something.

This means that when similar characters pop up in different books

and movies, all of them are based on the original archetype. For

instance, the character of “Fluffy,” the three-headed dog who guards

the sorcerer’s stone in the first Harry Potter book, comes from the

idea of Cerberus, the three-headed dog who guards the entrance to

the Underworld.2

So monsters, like ideas, can never be killed, and they have very

long memories. If you’re a hero and you encounter a magical crea-

ture, it may have been turned to dust many times over the years by

heroes just like you. It would be wise to assume that it is holding a

grudge and would be happy to help you along to your doom.

Percy Jackson has this harsh reality thrust upon him in no

uncertain terms, and it’s an experience we can learn from: Nothing

says “your days are numbered” like a Minotaur on your doorstep.

It should be noted that children of the less powerful gods aren’t

going to attract as much monstrous attention as those with more

powerful parents. You might think it would be “cool” if your

Olympian parent was one of the major gods, but that kind of status

comes with a big price tag.

Percy is the perfect example of this. Having Poseidon as his

father may give him some awesome powers, but it also makes him a

very high-profile target. So even if you had skills remarkable for a

demigod, this in no way would guarantee you an easy time of it.3

The world of gods and monsters is a harsh one. A hero can’t rely

on his immortal parent for help. There are rules against direct inter-


2 Chiron wouldn’t use this example, of course, because in his world there areno such things as wizards. That would be just silly.3 Just the opposite, since according to the agreement between the Big Three,you should not even exist, and lots of creatures would be trying to arrange it soyou didn’t.

ference, and it seems as though the higher in the echelon a god is,

the more limited he or she is in stepping in to help. After Annabeth

Chase runs away from her father’s house, her mother Athena helps

her by making sure she meets up with an older, more powerful half-

blood. Thalia, daughter of Zeus,4 leads her friends almost to the

safety of the camp, but when she is about to be killed by a horde of

monsters, all that Zeus can do is turn her into a tree on top of Half-

Blood Hill.

Ultimately it is up to young heroes to watch out for themselves.

A parent or patron may be some help, but it’s the nature of the hero

to have to face the monsters on his or her own.

Lesson Two: Types of Monsters

Monsters could be categorized in many different ways: by habitat,

allegiance, intelligence, lethality, and so on. For the purpose of this

lesson, I’ll separate them into two main types: those who will kill

you on purpose—whether it’s personal, or because you’ve blundered

into their lair—and those who will kill you by accident.

For the most part, monsters are very territorial; they tend to

stake out a hunting ground and protect it viciously. When Percy’s

brother Tyson is attacked by a sphinx in the city, it may have been

just because he ventured into its territory. Notice that the fact that

Tyson himself is a monster gives him no protection.

Here we see the type of monster who may have nothing against

you personally, but will not hesitate to kill you anyway. This may be

because it is (a) guarding something it thinks you want to steal; (b)

hungry; or (c) both.

Young heroes seem to encounter these types of monsters most

frequently when they are on a quest, but not always. Monsters can

be found just about anywhere, and if you stumble onto a Hydra’s


4 See previous footnote re: unauthorized offspring.

hunting grounds, chances are that one of seven heads would eat you

before you could explain that you were merely on your way to the

corner deli for a pastrami on rye.

Some monsters stay very isolated from the mortal world. Percy

has to go to the Sea of Monsters to encounter Polyphemus, the

Cyclops shepherd with the carnivorous sheep, and Scylla and

Charybdis, who between them destroy (again) the ironclad ship, CSS

Birmingham, and its crew. But other creatures rely on humankind for

survival. In ancient times, monsters often lived off of humans by

stealing their sheep and goats (or sometimes by making off with one

of their maidens). In Percy’s modern world, many monsters have

moved into retail, making a living off of humans in an entirely differ-

ent way.

This kind of magical creature doesn’t mean to kill you, but is

simply going about its business, completely indifferent to your fate.

Take, for example, the chain of Monster Donut shops. They spread

across the country, each of them connected to the life force of a mon-

ster. The stores multiply like Hydra heads, but whether their success

actually comes at the expense of their human customers—the mod-

ern equivalent of the stolen sheep or maiden, for example—remains

to be seen.5

Other retail ventures are more obviously dangerous, like

Medusa’s shop, which Percy, Annabeth, and Grover run across in

their first quest. In olden days, monsters who preyed on humans

could often be found at the intersection of major roads, where there

was the most traffic. Now monsters like the Medusa open shops.

Mortal society used to center around the crossroads, but it now

revolves around retail. Therefore, the smart hero should be careful in


5 If we lived in the world of Percy and the Olympians, I would definitely won-der about that coffee chain with the mermaid on its logo, for no other reasonthan convincing mortal society that it is reasonable to pay three dollars for acup of coffee is surely a plot to speed the end of Western Civilization.

stores; no one wants to pay for a cheeseburger by spending eternity

as a stone lawn ornament.

Monsters don’t consider death or dismemberment a flaw in their

business plan. Take the Graiai, for example. Who would have

thought it was a good idea to put three hags who share one eye in

control of a taxicab in New York?6 Since the sisters cannot pass the

eye between them without a violent argument breaking out, the taxi’s

only destination seems to be disaster. Yet getting heroes on their way

has been the hags’ job ever since Ancient Greece.

The fact that they don’t care what it does to their half-mortal pas-

sengers shows why immortal things should never be dealt with

lightly. Even when a magical creature is merely going about its busi-

ness—even when, like the Gray Sisters, it is technically being help-

ful—it can be very dangerous.

Now we come to the monster who does in fact take death very

personally. In addition to the innate hatred between monster and hero,

there is another reason that some fanged, winged, leather-skinned

horror might want half-bloods like Percy dead. Many monsters are

servants to various gods, who keep the creatures on staff to take care

of odd (and sometimes distasteful) jobs, like tracking down heroes,

guarding treasure, and torturing demigods who make them angry.

Which means that if you anger one of the gods, he or she is

likely to send something really nasty to let you know about it. Percy

Jackson angers several gods just by breathing, so he probably feels

like the whole world is out to get him. But that’s not actually true.

Most of the time, several worlds are out to get him.7


6 Though this would explain a lot about Manhattan cab drivers.7 By that I mean the mortal world, the immortal world, and the Underworld.Speaking of Hades, he may have a special reason to hate Percy, but all half-bloods should be wary of him. He’s like that kid at your school who never getsinvited to play with everyone else, but with superpowers and several thousandyears for his temper to come to a boil. Hades is understandably cranky.

Whether you are dealing with the bull-headed simplicity of the

Minotaur or the conniving ferocity of the Furies, if a god has sent a

monster after you, there is little you can do to avoid it. So you may

be wondering why I bother to mention it in a lesson about avoiding

monstrous conflict.

If you are a hero, and a vengeful (or possibly just bored) god has

sent a monster after you, you may not be able to steer clear of it, but

early recognition of the threat will allow you to control the battle-

field; wise tactics can even things out between unmatched oppo-

nents.

For instance, if you were a hero with a fire-breathing chimera on

your trail, then you’d want to arrange your confrontation near a

handy water source—or at least away from combustible materials.

By identifying the monster early, you can lead it away from innocent

bystanders, troublesome eyewitnesses, and destructible buildings.

You should always try to limit collateral injuries and property dam-

age, as it reduces the chance you will become wanted by conven-

tional authorities.

This is a case where Percy’s adventures show us how not to deal

with monsters. Think of how much easier his life would be if he did-

n’t spend so much time wanted by the police for blowing up cars,

buses, school gymnasiums, and national monuments. Mortal law

enforcement may not seem like much of a threat compared with a

phalanx of bronze bulls or a pack of hellhounds, but why add

unnecessary inconveniences to an already complicated quest?

Lesson Three: Spotting a Monster

Monster recognition isn’t just about memorizing the names and

types of creatures you may encounter, though that doesn’t hurt. If

you’re wondering whether your algebra teacher is a Fury or just a

mean old lady with a lot of cats, the most important thing is to use

your head, starting with your eyes, ears, and nose.


Why Do So Many Monsters

Go Into Retail?And How Come They’re Never Selling

Anything a Demigod Really Wants?

Cameron Dokey

It’s not easy being a young demigod.

Just ask Percy Jackson. He can tell you.

Always assuming he has time to catch his breath between pursu-

ing a quest or being pursued by the forces of evil hot on his trail,

sometimes literally breathing down his neck right behind him.13

Garden gnomes, waterbeds, donuts . . . itseems you can’t go shopping for anythingthese days without running into a monster.Cameron Dokey explains why so manymonsters have jobs in the service industry,and why shopping, for demigods, is a verydangerous business.

In Shakespeare, there’s a stage direction that reads: Exit, pursued

by a bear. (I am not either making this up. You can look it up for

yourself if you want to. It’s in The Winter’s Tale. Act III, scene 3. And

you thought Shakespeare was just some stuffy dead guy.)

But my point, and I do have one, is that the character in Shake-

speare had it lucky. At least he knew it was a bear behind him.

Whenever Percy Jackson flees the scene, he never knows what shape

the thing after him might take. That’s one of the challenges of being

chased by monsters. And that’s not all. Equally challenging may be

the fact that Percy also never really knows what’s up ahead. Friend or

foe. Battle or temptation.

Which pretty much brings me to the topic of this essay: Just

what is it about monsters and shopping?

There are a lot of monsters in Rick Riordan’s Percy Jackson and

the Olympians series. There are also a surprising number of oppor-

tunities for shopping. Action, adventure, Greek gods, retail therapy.

Not your ordinary combo. Not that much about Percy falls within

the realms of the usual.

An ordinary demigod? I just don’t think so.

But on almost every quest Percy takes, and his first one in partic-

ular, sooner or later, some creep who definitely doesn’t have Percy’s

best interests at heart pops up to try and sell him something. Some-

times it’s something he doesn’t need. Sometimes it’s something he

doesn’t want. Usually it’s both. But Percy and his pals stop to check

the whatever-it-is out anyway.

Yes, that’s right. Even with danger all around them, our hero and

his companions take the time to shop.

What the heck is that all about?

Let’s begin to answer this question by doing the same thing Percy

and his quest mates Grover the satyr and Annabeth, daughter of

Athena, goddess of wisdom, do in chapter eleven of The Lightning

Thief. Which, as I’m sure I don’t need to remind you, is Percy Jack-

son and the Olympians book one.


Like Percy, Annabeth, and Grover, we’re going to kick off our

monster retail tour with a visit to ATNYU MES GDERAN GOMEN

MEPROIUM.

For those of us not afflicted with demigod dyslexia, that would

be Aunty Em’s Garden Gnome Emporium.

True confession: Aunty Em’s Garden Gnome Emporium is my

favorite monster retail experience of all time. Probably because I did-

n’t have to actually experience it myself. But also because Aunty Em

turns out to be Aunty “M.” That’s short for Medusa, who may be the

original experiencer of the bad hair day.

Actually, considering she has to go around with snakes on her

head where her hair’s supposed to be, I think we could just go with

bad hair life.

Good rule to follow, in case it should happen to come up: Never

piss off Athena, goddess of wisdom, Annabeth’s mom. That’s how

Medusa ended up as old snakehead, and now she’s plenty pissed off.

So pissed that one look at her hairdo is all it takes to turn you to

stone. If you look at a reflection of her, you’re good to go. But if you

look at her, well, head on. . . .

That’s who all the garden gnomes in the emporium are—crea-

tures of one sort or another who looked Aunty Em right in her

beady, bloodshot eyes. Grover even thinks he spots one that looks a

lot like his Uncle Ferdinand. It turns out he’s right. Only it doesn’t

just look a lot like his Uncle Ferdinand. It is his Uncle Ferdinand.

Grover gets extra points, by the way, for urging his companions

not to set foot in Aunty Em’s Garden Gnome Emporium. He’s certain

he smells monsters, and it turns out he’s absolutely right. Unfortu-

nately, Percy and Annabeth overrule him. Not necessarily because

they’ve developed a sudden interest in acquiring yard art for Camp

Half-Blood, but because they smell burgers and they’re hungry.

Let’s just re-cap the overall scenario, shall we?

Percy, Grover, and Annabeth have just begun their quest. They

know there’s danger all around them. In fact, they’ve just escaped

WHY DO SO MANY MONSTERS GO INTO RETAIL? 15

from an attack by all three of the Furies in the back of a bus, which is

no mean feat, I can tell you. So I suppose I should cut Percy and

Annabeth some slack, because it does make a certain amount of

sense that all that Fury-fighting would have made them hungry.

But instead of heading for a nice safe McDonald’s, where you can

always use the bathroom even if you don’t buy a Happy Meal, what

does our hero do instead? He leads his friends straight to the back of

a warehouse filled with extremely odd yet lifelike statuary. Why?

Because the proprietor, whose face is completely hidden from sight

by a veil (did I forget to mention that?), says there’s a free snackbar.

Huh?

Surely the thing somebody ought to be smelling right about now

is a rat. Strangely enough, nobody, with the possible exception of

Grover, does. This is monster retail at its best and brightest: side-

tracking the hero and his companions, then putting their lives at

risk. The fact that they all eventually escape is fine and dandy. It’s

also cause for alarm. Because it’s right here, with the trip to Aunty

Em’s Garden Gnome Emporium, that a pattern starts to form.

When the going gets tough, the heroes go shopping. But some-

how they never notice until it’s way too close to too late that the only

thing the monsters really have for sale is trouble.

Here’s another case in point: chapter seventeen of The Lightning

Thief. That’s when our gang pays a visit to Crusty’s Waterbed Palace.

Percy’s quest to retrieve Zeus’ lightning bolt has taken him and

his companions from the east coast to Los Angeles by this time. No

sooner do they set foot in the city, however, than they’re set on by a

pack of thugs. And it is while trying to escape from them that our

trio decides to pay an impromptu visit to the Waterbed Palace.

So far, so good. But wait! There’s more. Because once inside the

Waterbed Palace, something strange happens. Well, more than one

thing, if the full truth must be told. But the specific strange thing I’m

getting at is this: Percy and his companions stick around.


Our hero and his friends have made it all the way across the

country and they’re still not much closer to finding Zeus’ lightning

bolt than they were when they set out. Time is definitely doing that

thing where it runs out. So what do Percy, Grover, and Annabeth do?

You got it. They shop.

Unlike the side trip to Aunty Em’s, where he was pretty certain

he could smell trouble coming, this time Grover’s the one who lets

the trio down. He develops a sudden, potentially fatal attraction to

the waterbeds. Almost before the trio knows what’s happening,

Grover’s tied to one of the beds, with Annabeth not far behind. Both

are in definite danger of being stretched to one size fits all.

Unless Percy thinks on his feet pretty darned fast, not only will

he fail in his quest, but he and the others are going to be extremely

uncomfortable—though admittedly more likely to be picked first for

basketball.

Fortunately, by the time chapter seventeen has rolled around,

thinking on his feet is a thing at which Perseus Jackson is learning to

excel.

He turns the tables on waterbed salesman Crusty, short for Pro-

crustes, a.k.a. the Stretcher, a real kill ’em with kindness guy. Percy

does this by convincing Crusty that those waterbeds look pretty

good, so good that Crusty himself ought to try one on for size. The

moment Crusty does this, Percy’s in the clear. He dispatches the

monster, rescues his friends.

The shopping trip is over. The quest is on.

But I’ve still got a question, and my guess is you do too: Why in

Western Civilization didn’t Percy walk in then walk right back out

the Waterbed Palace door? As soon as the thugs had departed, of

course. Fast as our hero thinks on his feet when the time comes, why

does it take the time so long to arrive? Why didn’t Percy spot that

there was something weird going on right off the bat?

I mean, come on.

WHY DO SO MANY MONSTERS GO INTO RETAIL? 17

A guy that Percy himself describes as looking like a raptor in a

leisure suit tries to sell three individuals clearly not old enough to

have their own credit cards some waterbeds? Get real. Do you have

any idea how expensive those things are? And I’m talking before the

shipping and handling costs. No salesman is that desperate. No real

one, anyhow.

It’s Aunty Em’s Garden Gnome Emporium all over again, when

you get right down to it. Our friends end up walking right into a

trap. But the thing that lures them into the trap in the first place is a

front. Specifically, a store front.

So just what is it about monsters and retail? Why would mon-

sters even pick retail in the first place? Why go to all the effort of try-

ing to lure Percy and his friends in to shop, when it would be so

much easier to simply jump out from behind the nearest available

cover and wipe them out? Percy and his pals only add up to three,

after all.

At least they do in The Lightning Thief. Our hero does get some

reinforcements as his adventure moves along. Even so, monsters

come in an infinite variety of shapes and sizes, not to mention num-

bers. Surely all they’d have to do would be to keep on coming.

Sooner or later, and probably sooner, Percy and his pals are bound to

get tired.

And here’s another question for you: If the monsters are going to

go to all the trouble of setting up the opportunity for retail, how

come they never seem to be selling anything a young demigod might

actually want? Like some super new weapon, the ability to shop for

your heart’s desire, or to travel through time.

It took me a while, but I think I’ve come up with an explanation.

The fact that the monsters aren’t selling anything our hero and

his companions really, truly want is part of the point. I’m talking

about the author’s point, now. And Percy not being able to spot the

danger monster retail poses, at least not immediately, is the other

part. Because the truth (which I put forward knowing full well that I


Stealing Fire From the Gods The Appeal of Percy Jackson

Paul Collins

Growing up is dangerous. Being yourself is dangerous.

In the classic Australian film, Strictly Ballroom, the chief char-

acter, Scott, wants to dance his own steps and wants to do it his way.

And all Hades breaks loose!

Scott’s attempts at becoming an individual, at becoming himself, are

seen as a crime, an act of rebellion, against the social “group” of which

he is a member because Scott is not fitting in; he’s not conforming.

23

Would you want to be Percy Jackson? At thebeginning of The Lightning Thief, Percy ispretty adamant that you should never wishto be a half-blood. It’s simply too dangerous.And yet, don’t we all wish we could uncap apen and see Riptide appear? Don’t yousometimes wish you could confront monstersas bravely as a demigod would? Paul Collinsexplores why this idea is so appealing, andwhy there might a little Percy in all of us.

Well, neither is Percy Jackson.

Percy is dyslexic, has Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder

(ADHD), and is always getting into trouble. In most school systems,

and society at large, that pretty much makes Percy a loser, the kid

least likely to succeed, the kind of kid who’ll never amount to any-

thing and isn’t worth the effort anyway. Ever heard that one before?

Rick Riordan, author of the Percy Jackson series, turns these so-

called flaws on their heads.

Like many kids in his position—labeled a misfit, looked down

upon, shoved to the side lines—Percy feels shut out, left behind, and

is beginning to feel frustrated and anxious about it. He can’t work

out why some of the teachers always pick on him, why things always

go wrong even when he tries his hardest to do the right thing.

Of course, once you’ve been stuck with a label—like dyslexic,

disruptive, troublemaker—it’s pretty hard to change things back,

because you’re dealing with people’s perceptions. They don’t see “you”

anymore, they just see the label.

In its own way, The Lightning Thief is a classic “Rags to Riches”

plot, a type of story we’ve heard over and over again since early

childhood: The Ugly Duckling, Cinderella, Aladdin, King Arthur, Star

Wars, David Copperfield, Jane Eyre, Harry Potter, Rocky, the biblical

Joseph and his brothers, and many, many more. They are all essen-

tially stories about growing up, about coming into the power and

responsibility of adulthood, and about the dark forces that try to

stop them. They begin, usually, with a child or youthful hero/heroine

who is often an orphan or part orphan (like Aladdin, Percy has “lost”

a father) and who has been marginalized, forced to live in the shad-

ows like Cinderella: neglected, scorned, undervalued, overlooked,

and mistreated.

This story is found in every culture and every time, including

that of the North American Indians prior to the arrival of the Euro-

peans and as far back as ninth-century China (and there is no reason

to think that was its first occurrence).


So why is this particular plot so important to us? What is it really

about?

Well, I’ll tell you. It’s about rebellion.

It’s about people growing up and becoming themselves. Just as

Scott tries to do in Strictly Ballroom, just as Harry Potter tries and

every person who has ever lived has tried. Just as a fair few of the

heroes and heroines of Greek myths have tried.

And this is no accident.

The gods of Olympus—all-powerful, simultaneously good and

bad, unpredictable, oddly human in their flaws—are stand-ins not

only for the establishment (school, society, church) but also for those

other godlike beings: parents.

Rick Riordan has rightly seen this and created a story about the

children of the gods, who are in precisely the same power relation-

ship to their very-much-alive-and-kicking gods as children in our

world are to their parents. And this, I think, is one of the secrets to

the success of the series: It mimics the experience of everyone grow-

ing up—and of every person’s troublesome need to become him- or

herself.

Seeing Clearly

The Lightning Thief is also about “seeing clearly”: the schools Percy

has attended (six so far) and the various teachers he’s had, as well as

his smelly unpleasant stepfather, have marked him down as a trou-

blemaker and a no-hoper. When something goes wrong, it must be

Percy’s fault.

And that’s because they don’t see the real Percy.

Nor, for that matter, does he see them very clearly: He’s unaware

that his teacher Mr. Brunner is actually a centaur, that Mrs. Dodds is

a razor-taloned Fury out for his blood, that his best friend Grover is

a cloven-footed satyr, and that the three old ladies on the roadside

are the Fates.

STEALING FIRE FROM THE GODS 25

Later, he fails to see through the disguises the various gods or

monsters adopt—sometimes until it’s almost too late, as when the

Mother of Monsters, Echidna, along with her doggie-who-ain’t-a-

doggie, tries to turn him into a smokin’ shish kebab.

Percy’s failure to “see clearly” extends to his “normal” life as well:

His dyslexia, considered a handicap in our world, causes visual dis-

tortions. “Words had started swimming off the page, circling my

head, the letters doing one-eighties as if they were riding skate-

boards,” he describes it in The Lightning Thief. In reality, the dyslexia

is the result of Percy’s brain being hard-wired for Ancient Greek and

is part of his uniqueness.

But most of all, Percy doesn’t see himself clearly.

Like the schools and society that have labeled him as some kind

of maverick and failure, he sees himself in terms of those same

labels.

In the Rags to Riches story, the true focus is not so much on

growing up, as it is one of its chief requirements: becoming aware.

It is learning to be conscious, learning to see clearly and wholly,

that distinguishes these types of stories. Even Peter Rabbit manages

to escape the dangerous farmer and the garden in which he eats and

plays to his heart’s content (like any egocentric infant) only when he

climbs up high to get a better view of things.

Attaining consciousness—awareness—is the true mark of the

rebel, and the greatest danger for those in power, whether they be

gods or parents. It is no coincidence that authoritarian regimes, like

Saddam Hussein’s pre-invasion Iraq, seek always to control the

media and to dictate what people can and can’t know.

Rags to Riches

In his astonishing book The Seven Basic Plots, Christopher Booker

outlines and explores the fundamental stories that have entranced,

and continue to entrance, the human race. One of these is the


A Glossary of Ancient

Greek MythNigel Rodgers

A

Aegis

A sacred adornment of great importance, normally worn as a medal-

lion or necklace around the chest of a god (or a man worshipped as a

god, such as Alexander the Great), or carried on its own in solemn

procession. Zeus, king of the gods, first gave an aegis to his daughter

Athena, patron goddess of Athens, which made her invulnerable

even to his thunderbolts. Fringed with snakes’ heads and decorated

with images of the Gorgon—the dread creature that turned viewers

to stone—the aegis brought victory to whichever side the god wear-

ing it supported.

(See Athena, Perseus)

Aegean Sea

The main sea around Greece, which took its name from Aegeus,

King of Athens. When Aegeus’ son Theseus, as a young man, sailed

off to Crete as part of Athens’s tribute to the Minotaur, he promised

his father that he would change the color of his ship’s sails from the

normal black if he had returned safely. Although he did escape alive

from Crete, Theseus failed to do so, and Aegeus threw himself, in

grief, into the sea—which was thenceforth known by his name.

143

Aeneas

Son of the goddess Aphrodite and the Trojan prince Anchises, and

hero of The Aeneid. Aeneas escaped from Troy as it fell, carrying his

aged father. His subsequent wanderings around the Mediterranean

led him to Carthage, where he had a passionate affair with Dido, the

city’s founder and queen, and when his god-given duty called him

reluctantly away, Dido in despair committed suicide. Aeneas then

visited the Underworld to meet the ghost of his father, who had

since died, and hear of his part in Rome’s future greatness before sail-

ing on to Latium (now Lazio, central Italy). There Aeneas married

Lavinia and founded Lavinium, a city on the coast that was the pre-

cursor to Rome. The Romans venerated Aeneas. Julius Caesar

claimed to be descended from him, as did Augustus, during whose

reign Virgil wrote The Aeneid.

(See Aphrodite, Trojan War)

Amazons

Female warriors. While real women in Greece were secluded

indoors, unable to vote let alone fight, one mythical race rejected

male dominance: the Amazons. Their name may come from Ama-

zona, meaning “without breasts,” for they reputedly cut off their right

breasts in order to shoot better, but in Greek art they are always

shown with both breasts. The Amazons lived in Pontus (the north

coast of modern Turkey) and other remote, legend-misted regions

around the Black Sea. Here they formed societies where the women

ruled and men either did the domestic work or were excluded alto-

gether. Above all, the Amazons fought, invading many territories

and even founding cities such as Ephesus (on the Aegean coast of

modern Turkey). Theseus of Athens, who had joined Hercules on

one of his adventures, abducted Antiope, an Amazon princess, and

took her home to Athens. In revenge the Amazons invaded Greece,

and were only defeated right outside Athens. During the Trojan War,

the Amazon queen Penthesilea went to Troy’s aid, fighting valiantly


until killed by Achilles. Most unusually, Achilles wept at her death.

Later, Alexander the Great reputedly loved an Amazon queen whom

he encountered in central Asia.

(See Theseus)

Andromeda

Mythical princess, the daughter of Cepheus, king of Ethiopia, and

Cassiopeia. Andromeda rashly boasted that she was more beautiful

than the Nereids, and the angry sea nymphs complained to Posei-

don, the sea god, who sent a flood and monster to ravage the land.

To appease the angry god, Andromeda was chained to a rock as a

sacrifice to the monster. But Perseus, the hero who had just killed

the hideous Medusa, saw Andromeda and fell in love with her. He

killed the monster and married Andromeda, and their son (also

named Perseus) became the ancestor of the Persians. Along with

Cepheus and Cassiopeia, Andromeda and Perseus were later raised

to the heavens as constellations.

(See Perseus)

Aphrodite

Goddess of love and the most beautiful of the Olympian deities.

Aphrodite was worshipped in many forms across the Mediterranean;

doves were sacred to her and she was often shown attended by Eros,

mischievous god of desire. However, Aphrodite had disconcertingly

foul origins. The god Kronos, urged on by his mother Gaia, castrated

his father Ouranos and threw the severed genitals into the sea. Out of

the resulting foam rose Aphrodite, the “foam-born.” Blown ashore by

Zephyrus, the west wind, she landed at Cyprus, where she was dressed

and bejewelled by the Horae, goddesses embodying the four seasons.

Now dazzlingly lovely, she caused amorous chaos on Olympus, for

every god adored her. Zeus married her off to Hephaestus, the black-

smith god, but it did not prove a marriage made in heaven.

Aphrodite soon grew bored with her lame (and ugly) husband and

had an affair with Ares, the war god. When Hephaestus realized this,

A GLOSSARY OF ANCIENT GREEK MYTH 145

he threw a steel net over the sleeping couple that chained them to

their bed. The other gods looked on, laughing. Aphrodite had affairs

with other gods such as Hermes and men such as the Trojan prince

Anchises (the father of her son Aeneas). Aphrodite’s beauty

bewitched another Trojan prince, Paris, and when he was called on

to judge who was the most beautiful, Athena, Hera, or Aphrodite,

Paris chose the love goddess. In return he was gifted with great sex

appeal, which won him the heart of Helen, the loveliest woman

alive. Unfortunately, Helen was married already—to Menelaus, king

of Sparta. By eloping with her, Paris started the Trojan War.

(See Aeneas, Ares, Athena, Eris, Hephaestus, Hera, Jason, Nereids, Oura-

nos)

Apollo

God of music, poetry, medicine, light, and science, and for many the

archetypal Greek deity. Apollo was born with his twin sister Artemis

on the island of Delos. His father was Zeus, king of the gods, and his

mother Leto, a Titaness. The baby god was fed nectar and ambrosia

rather than milk, giving him the strength he used to kill the serpent

Pytho, which had molested his mother. He named the site of his vic-

tory Delphi, and it became the seat of his Oracle, the greatest in

Greece. Each winter Apollo went far north to the land of the mysteri-

ous Hyperboreans in a chariot drawn by white swans, and returned

with the spring. He was master of the lyre, Greece’s main musical

instrument, and of the bow. On Mount Parnassus near Delphi he

held court, playing his lyre and attended by the Nine Muses. Apollo

could be dangerous if crossed. The satyr Marsyas rashly challenged

him to a musical contest, and when Apollo won, he had Marsyas

flayed alive. He could dispense sickness as well as medicine, sending

plagues if angered. But generally Apollo was a beneficent god, hon-

ored by humans and the other Olympians. Depicted always as a

serenely handsome, beardless young man, Apollo had many, often

unhappy, love affairs, most notably with Daphne, a nymph. Apollo


pursued her passionately but in vain, for she prayed to her father,

the river god Peneus, and he turned her into a laurel tree just as the

god was about to grasp her. One of his other love affairs was with the

princess Coronis. When Apollo discovered she had left him, he shot

her with one of his arrows, and repented of his rage too late to save

her. Their son Asclepius was saved by the centaur Chiron, however,

and grew up to be a divine healer. Apollo also fell in love with

Hyacinthus, a Spartan prince, whom he taught to throw the discus.

When Hyacinthus was killed by a flying discus, the first hyacinth

flower sprang from the ground stained by his blood. Apollo was at

times identified with Helios, the sun god, but they were really dis-

tinct deities.

(See Artemis, Delphi, Hecate, Helios, Hercules, Hermes, Laurel, Mount

Olympus, Nymphs, Oracles, Orpheus, Python, Zeus)

Arachne

Daughter of a Lydian dyer, who rashly challenged the goddess

Athena to a weaving contest. The tapestry Arachne wove depicted

the scene of Athena’s contest with Poseidon with such brilliant real-

ism that the goddess, jealously enraged, destroyed Arachne’s works.

Athena then turned the weaver herself into a spider, doomed to

repeat forever her compulsive weaving. From Arachne’s name come

the terms arachnid and arachnophobia (fear of spiders).

Ares

God of war. Irascible and cruel, Ares was disliked both by other gods

and by human beings. Although the son of Zeus and Hera, and so

part of Olympus’ “royal family,” Ares was not loved by his parents.

Only Aphrodite, bored by her blacksmith husband Hephaestus,

loved him, and even then only briefly. More usually, he spent his

time haunting the battlefield with his supporters, the lesser gods

Deimos (fear) and Phobos (panic), killing at will. But Ares was not

invincible, for he lacked intelligence as well as charm. Athena often

managed to outwit him and even Hercules, who was a mere


demigod, at times defeated him. Ares was worshipped by men only

in Thebes, a city noted for its militarism and dullness.

(See Aphrodite, Eris, Hephaestus, Hera)

Ariadne

Daughter of King Minos and Queen Pasiphae of Crete. Ariadne fell in

love with Theseus of Athens when he came to Crete as one of the sac-

rificial victims for the Minotaur, and so she gave Theseus a thread to

help him find his way back out of the Labyrinth, the maze in which

the Minotaur was held. After Theseus had killed the monster, the cou-

ple escaped from Crete together. However, Theseus—for reasons still

debated—abandoned Ariadne on the island of Naxos. There she was

rescued by the god Dionysus, who married her. Ariadne, in origin,

was probably a Minoan goddess connected with the Great Mother.

(See Dionysus, Minotaur, Theseus)

Artemis

Daughter of Zeus and Leto and twin sister of Apollo. In one avatar

she was a chaste huntress, slim, athletic, and short-skirted (Greek

women usually wore long robes). Protector of young wild animals,

she roamed the woods with a bow and was attended by nymph-

huntresses sworn to celibacy like her. (These twenty shadowy

nymphs, immortal but with no real power, were nameless apart from

Callisto. Callisto, daughter of Lycaon, was seduced by Zeus while he

was disguised as the goddess herself. When Artemis discovered this,

she shot the unfortunate Callisto.) When the hunter Actaeon came

upon Artemis bathing naked, she angrily transformed him into a

stag and he was devoured by his own hounds. Often shown with the

crescent moon, Artemis was sometimes associated with Selene, the

Titan moon goddess, and even with Hecate, the fearsome queen of

darkness. As Selene, she fell in love with the beautiful youth

Endymion, who was put by Zeus into an immortal sleep to preserve

his beauty. Artemis was also worshipped as the Great Goddess, an

older multi-breasted fertility goddess venerated in a huge temple at


Ephesus in Asia Minor. (This is the temple of Diana that St. Paul later

attacked; Diana is the Latin form of Artemis.)

(See Apollo, Hecate, Nymphs, Zeus)

Athena

Goddess of wisdom. Athena was born fully formed from the forehead of

Zeus. Unlike most other gods, Athena showed almost no interest in sex,

and was often called Parthenos (virgin). Still, she was affronted when Paris,

the Trojan prince, chose Aphrodite over her in the Contest of Paris. In the

Trojan War that followed, Athena favored the Greeks, especially the wily

hero Odysseus, whom she helped on his long wanderings as he made his

way home. Athena was the patron goddess of Athens, especially of its

craftsmen, and her temple the Parthenon, the most perfect temple in the

Greek world, still rises above the city. She had won Athens’s devotion with

the olive tree, which the Athenians preferred to Poseidon’s gift of a fresh-

water spring. Another of her titles was Promachos, defender or champion,

for she was a fighter goddess, shown always with spear, helmet, and

shield. She sported the hideous snake-haired aegis of Medusa, who was

killed by her protégé Perseus, and was frequently pictured with a snake

coiling beside her and an owl, a symbol of wisdom, on her shoulder.

(See Aegis, Aphrodite, Arachne, Ares, Eris, Furies, Hercules, Medusa,

Nemean Lion, Pegasus, Perseus, Poseidon, Zeus)

Atlas

Titan punished by Zeus for joining the “revolt of the Titans” by hav-

ing to stand forever at the world’s western edge and support the

weight of the heavens on his shoulders. Only once did he have a

break: Hercules, on his mission to fetch the golden apples of the

Hesperides, agreed to take on his great burden if Atlas fetched the

apples. This done, Hercules promptly gave the crushing weight of

the heavens back. Atlas was the father of Calypso and of the

Pleiades, who became a constellation. He gave his name to the Atlas

Mountains in Morocco, the westernmost area the Greeks knew.

(See Calypso, Hesperides, Titans)


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